


Under the Strobe Lights

by daddykink (halogenharry)



Category: The Maze Runner (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, Flirting, Grinding, Jealous Thomas, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Marking, Neck Kissing, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:46:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halogenharry/pseuds/daddykink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the Gladers go out for a night on the town and go to Newt's favorite club, Strider. Booze and drugs are passed around, as usual. And as usual, Newt is the life of the party, dancing with everyone in sight and throwing himself on anyone who'll catch him.</p><p>Well, everyone except Thomas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Strobe Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this prompt from tumblr: 
> 
> You’ve been grinding on all my friends but not on me it’s been four hours I’m drunk my ego is hurt I want an explanation

The fast pace, the feel of skin to skin contact, the never ending booze and drugs, the sex, the feel in the air - everything about clubbing got Thomas and Newt revved up. It was beautiful, a large sea of bodies all grinding on one another and coexisting in a hot, carefree place. 

 

Thomas wasn't much of a dancer himself, but he always spent the entire night out on the floor; the only reason being Newt's mesmerizing moves. Newt had this way about him when he danced he didn't care who watched or where he was or any of the outside circumstances because it was just him, dancing, and the world could wait. It was seductive and irresistible in more ways than one; Newt had boys lining up wanting to get a moment with him before the sun came up.

 

Usually, Newt barely paid the other boys any attention and would mainly dance with Thomas the whole night through. And things were different when he danced with Thomas. He would give Thomas more of his attention than any of the others. He'd dance front to front with Thomas. He'd whispered sweet nothings against Thomas' skin. He'd show that Thomas meant the world to him in his small gestures as they danced together surrounded by friends, acquaintances and hundreds of people they didn't know and may never know. His preference for Thomas was known by all around town seeing as Newt showed off and hung all over him wherever they went. 

 

But tonight was different. Newt was catering to the line of boys and had barely spent a minute with him the entire night. Each time Thomas had tried to catch Newt's attention, he was blown off, hurting Thomas' ego and giving him nothing to do but get himself drinks to escape the situation at hand. It was pitiful, really, that Newt was key to a good time. Newt was the only part of clubbing he liked. Without him, Thomas hated the sea of bodies, the dancing, the loud music, the lack of hearing he acquired and the headache that often followed. Newt made it all bearable and actually enjoyable but without him, there was no point in being there. Thomas had tried to get that same high he felt when he danced with Newt by only watching him, but as jealousy seeped in, all feelings of possible lust or enjoyment were immediately scorched.

 

After downing his third drink, Thomas was starting to feel that buzz he loved. It was manufactured and artificial, but Thomas would take anything in order to fill the void where Newt normally resided. And alcohol was the answer then he would drink until he couldn't anymore.

 

Across the floor, Minho peered through the windows in the crowd in order to keep tabs on Thomas as he drank his feelings away. He worried about both Newt and Thomas because never before in their friendship had anything like this occurred which only signaled to him that something was off. As Newt passed by him, Minho lightly grabbed his arm and pulled him against him. "Why aren't you dancing with Thomas like you usually do?" he asked against Newt's skin. Newt answered with a shrug and pulled free from him to turn around and mouth 'Something new'. Newt backed himself up into Gally, who happily welcomed him in, and left Minho even more confused. Newt  _never_  wanted to do something new. This was the kid who had refused to go to any club other than Strider for six months because he didn't want a change in atmosphere. He'll only change something if he absolutely has to and even then he's stubborn. So the fact that Newt suddenly changed something this drastic was almost scary. 

 

Minho looked through the crowd again to find Thomas deteriorating further on hard liquor (he appeared to be on his sixth glass) and with no plan set, Minho set off to fix Thomas first. He pushed through people; annoyed glances shot his way as he forced himself through tiny opening and small groups. He stepped on a matter of toes, elbowed a few guys in the back and nearly got in a fight with a guy for slipping by too close to his girl, but eventually he made it to Thomas, his head hanging down and his hand still gripping his class. 

 

Leaning against the bar next to Thomas, Minho placed his hand on Thomas' shoulder lightly to signal his presence. Thomas' head snapped up and Minho could see how glassy his eyes had become and the slightly quiver of his lip. "You wanna talk, Thomas? A smoke? Anything?" Minho offered. Thomas' shoulders visibly deflated as he thought about what he wanted. He downed the last bit of his drink and searched Minho's face for any sign on his motive.

 

"I wan' Newt to stop with this stuff," Thomas slurred. He carelessly waved his hand in the direction of where Newt was still dancing in the middle of the floor. "I lo... Why's he doin' this, Minho? Why's he gotta do this?" Thomas finally collapsed so that his forehead was resting on the cool bar.

 

Minho sighed. He removed the glass from Thomas' hand and shooed the bartender away when he came by to ask if they needed anything. Minho could almost hear Thomas' groans and he could definitely feel his pain, though not to the same extent. Minho said, carefully choosing his words, "Thomas, I know you want Newt, but... don't you want Newt to have a good time? I know he wants you to have a good time, even without him. He cares a helluva lot about you, ya know? He wouldn't want you like this just like you wouldn't want him like this."

 

Thomas lifted his head up and shook it rapidly. He wasn't taking anything Minho was trying to feed him. "If he cared soooo much, then wouldn't he have noticed that I'm not there? Wouldn't he stop ignoring me every time I try to speak to him? You know Newt doesn't like change. He doesn't. So stop lying to me! Newt does  _not_ care. End of story. Newt lo.... he's all about them and not me. He...  _loves_ all of them, but there's no love left for Thomas. No love for Thomas." The alcohol was completely taking over Thomas' brain, creating an entirely one track mind and eliminating any other distractions that had possibly lingered. The club disappeared, the music disappeared, the crowd disappeared; all that was left was the uncomfortable distance between himself and Newt. This self-pity he had been catering his conscious with for the past hour was now moving in on him in suffocating patterns. Thomas was itchy, in need of action, of need of  _something._ He could hear Minho saying something to him, but he didn't care. It made no difference in the plan that hatched in his mind. In a split second, Thomas was decided on his next move and how he was going to execute it. Thomas got off his stool suddenly, suprising Minho (and even himself a little bit, if he was being honest), and aimed his body in the exact direction he'd be travelling. 

 

And then he was off, leaving behind a speechless Minho and angry passersby as he stumbled through them and by them on his journey to the center of the floor. The lights being projected around him merged and masked his vision as he moved closer and closer to them. Under the strobe lights, Thomas could hear his heartbeat and felt the heat of the room engulf him, spit him out and drag him back down again. A cold sweat dripped down his back as his eyes locked on Newt's. Thomas studied each of Newt's movements as his breath caught and his body roll stuttered momentarily.

 

Gally, who was closest to Newt, noticed the slight fall of Newt's facade and searched the crowd to find the distraction. He saw Thomas stumbling across the floor a few feet away and didn't appreciate the way he was looking at Newt. It's not that Gally actually cared that Thomas was here for Newt, he simply hated Thomas and would take any excuse to fight the scrawny brunette. 

 

Gally quickly navigated the crowd until he could intercept Thomas, whose reflexes had slowed significantly. "Whatcha think you're doin'?" Gally challenged, physically blocking Thomas' path.

 

"I'm going to talk to Newt," Thomas said while trying to step around the larger boy with no success. 

 

Gally pulled him back in front of him. "No can do, kid. You ain't talking to Newt tonight. I mean," Gally stole a glance behind him at the dancing boy behind him, "look how happy he is." Gally chuckled. "How happy he is without you. I've said it a hundred times and I'll say it again - this group doesn't need you. We were perfectly fine without you. So why don't you just head home and cry to your Mom or somethin', ok?"

 

Thomas shook his head. He wouldn't buy it; Newt had never been like this before and people don't change this much in an hour or two. He had to see Newt. He had to speak to Newt. Gally was only taking up his time to rile him up.  _Maybe he wants Newt all to himself, that_ _bastard_ _,_ Thomas thought.

 

Thomas, as quickly as he could, located the best pocket to break through and when thought Gally had relaxed his guard enough, he made his way into the small space and was immediately thrust in front of Newt, who stopped dancing in his shock of Thomas' sudden appearance. The other boys around them eyed the odd, silent exchange, but minded their own business.

 

Thomas, without noticing anything happening around them (meanwhile Newt was hyper-aware), took hold of Newt's wrist and dragged him behind him as he stumbled his way to the bathroom. He made his way inside and stared at Newt, who mostly looked puzzled. Thomas spoke, pleading, "Why are you doing this to me, Newt? Why won't you dance with me or talk to me or acknowledge my existence? You've grinded on all of our friends and some randoms... Well, everybody except me. And... my ego's hurt."

 

"And you're drunk," Newt added.

 

Thomas shrugged his interjection off. "That doesn't change the fact that I love you and you love all of them and there's no love left for Thomas."

 

Newt's mouth felt dry and his heart skipped a beat. Thomas' declaration of love was laced with whiskey, vodka and a pout that could make anyone melt. But as Newt studied his features, a switch clicked on within Thomas and a fire erupted behind his eyes.

 

"I want you to be mine, Newt. I need you to be mine." Thomas pressed his body against Newt's and engulfed him in his arms, resting his hands on Newt's behind. 

 

Newt held Thomas' face in his hands and looked him in the eye as he spoke. "But I am yours, Tommy. I always have been."

 

Thomas groaned and nuzzled his nose down into Newt's collarbone. All he had ever wanted ever wanted was the reassurance that Newt wanted him at least half as badly as he wanted him. Mouthing at Newt's neck, Thomas worked his way up until he could kiss Newt sweet, thin lips. It was a quick, fleeting kiss, but enough to remind both of them of the many late nights they had spent, Newt on Thomas' lap as he moaned against his lips, the whimpers that had escaped Newt's lips as he was pressed into the mattress, the many times Thomas has whispered Newt's name hotly against his skin; all of the memories they only shared ricocheted back and forth between both of their minds. 

 

Suddenly, Newt guided Thomas' lips back to his neck. "I want everybody out there to know I'm yours, Tommy. Why don't you  _show_ everybody I'm yours?" Newt let go as Thomas instantly obliged, kissing a spot on the right side of Newt's neck near where his neck met his shoulder (which was Newt's favorite spot, as Thomas had discovered while exploring). Relaxing is Thomas' arms, Newt tilted his head to the side, opening himself up for whatever Thomas wanted to do. He blew on the spot, making Newt giggle and squirm which only gave Thomas reason to hold him tighter and grab a handful of Newt's hair to hold him in place. Newt loved when Thomas got like this even though it was only minor so far. He liked that Thomas always took charge after being given a few small directions and the rest was up to his discretion. And now was no different as Thomas kissed and sucked at his skin, making the blood rise and small moans pass Newt's lips. As Thomas grazed his teeth over the reddening spot, Newt's breath caught in his throat. " _Yes,_ Tommy. That's fucking it." Thomas sucked the skin harsher, regularly catching it between his teeth and letting go. 

 

After a full minute of work on Newt's neck, Thomas pulled back to admire his work. The spot was dark, medium-sized and clearly sensitive to the touch (Newt bit his lip when Thomas rub it lightly with his thumb). Their breath mingled between them as they were on opposite ends of an exchange showing the monopoly Thomas had on Newt. 

 

"Do you know how much I love you, Tommy?" Newt said abruptly to which Thomas shrugged.

 

"You never said," Thomas retorted.

 

Newt laughed breathlessly and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've never said it to your face. I was always too nervous to. I mean... what if you didn't reciprocate it? What if all your affection towards me was just kindness or something and I was misinterpreting it? But even with that minor fear, I sure as hell have shown my love for you and, uh... sometimes, when you're asleep, I say it aloud to you."

 

Thomas kissed Newt's forehead. "I wish you had told me. And I would have told you I felt that same way." Thomas thumbed the bruise again, making Newt shiver. "You're all mine."

 

"All yours," Newt said with a sigh. 

 

Thomas kissed Newt's thin lips again, savoring their softness. "Mm, I fucking love you, Newt. With all my heart." 

 

"I love you, too, Tommy."

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is @bloodIads!


End file.
